


Surrender

by st_mick



Series: Niffler [12]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Torchwood
Genre: Causing damage to the power grid, M/M, Reunion, more history, reconnecting, talking it out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-07
Updated: 2019-03-07
Packaged: 2019-11-13 05:14:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18025367
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/st_mick/pseuds/st_mick
Summary: Ianto returns to Cardiff.  He and Jack spend some much needed time reconnecting.





	Surrender

Ianto had lunch with his friends again on Sunday before heading back to Cardiff.  He arrived home at two in the afternoon, an hour before he’d asked Jack to meet him.  He was not entirely surprised to find Jack in his flat, waiting for him.

Jack turned to him from where he’d been pacing near the window, looking nervous.  Ianto found he was suddenly extremely anxious, as well.  Jack stood rooted to the spot as Ianto placed his bag on the floor and took a tentative step forward.  Jack froze.  They just stood there for a few awkward moments before Ianto said, “I need for you to at least meet me halfway, Jack,” as he took another step.

In the next instant, Jack surged across the room, stopping just in front of Ianto, clearly afraid to touch him.  “May I…?” he asked, looking so vulnerable and frightened that it made Ianto’s heart squeeze in his chest.

Ianto reached out and wrapped his arms around Jack, who returned his embrace with a choked sob.  “I’m so sorry, Ianto,” he rasped.

“Shhh.  It’s all right.  I forgive you, Jack.  I’m sorry, too.”

“No, I should have checked.  As soon as I decided that’s what I wanted, I should have checked in and made sure you knew…”  He hugged Ianto tighter and then sobbed again.  “You’ve lost so much weight!”

“I’m fine, Jack.  I just didn’t have an appetite for a few days.  But it’s back to normal, now.  I promise.”

Jack finally released him and spent a moment looking at him.  “And what is this?” he reached up and tugged on Ianto’s beard, trying to lighten his tone.

Ianto shrugged.  “Didn’t feel like shaving.”

Jack leaned in again, holding Ianto like he was something precious and fragile. 

The younger man closed his eyes.  “Jack, I need you to do something for me,” he said. 

Jack leaned away from Ianto so he could look at him.  “Anything.”

“I need for you to let this go.  If you stop touching me, or second guess every time you want to touch me,” he sighed.  “ _That_ will hurt me more than anything that’s happened.” 

“I’ll try, Ianto,” Jack whispered.

Ianto buried his face in the crook of Jack’s neck, inhaling deeply.  “Jack,” he sighed.  “I missed you.”

“Ianto,” Jack breathed.

They stood together for a few minutes, just enjoying the contact.  When they separated, Ianto offered to make them coffee so they could talk.  Jack readily accepted.  They sat facing one another on the sofa with their coffee.  Jack fought a surge of emotion that accompanied the first decent cup of coffee he’d had in almost two weeks.  He closed his eyes and sighed.

They talked for hours, speaking of their time apart, and expanding on things they had brought up in their letters.  Ianto had wondered why Jack had seemed so devastated, but he understood better when the older man told him about where he had grown up and the traditions that were still sacred to him.

Jack did not often speak about his youth.  Now he spent a great deal of time telling Ianto about the Boeshane Peninsula and some of its customs.  Ianto did not speak.  He was afraid to break the spell.  He knew that Jack was giving him a tremendous gift, trusting him with this piece of his past.

The afternoon approached evening, and Jack shifted the conversation, asking Ianto to tell him more about his time away.  Ianto found himself confiding in Jack, exploring his thoughts and grief in greater depth.  Now that they had a bit of distance from the event that had triggered everything, he realized that the insights he had discovered had been worth the price, if for no other reason than the peace he had been able to gain.

As they spoke, they shifted, their bodies ebbing and flowing in relation to one another.  Not wanting to be distant, but not ready to be close, it was a strange sort of dance.  But their conversation served to put them at ease with one another, rebuilding the trust that had been injured.  Small touches started easing back into their interaction, soothing them both.

They were eventually sitting closer, still facing one another.  At a lull in the conversation, Jack found that he was unable to resist any longer.  He moved so he could take Ianto’s face in his hands.  He hesitated, and Ianto gave a soft smile.  Finally, he leaned in for a brief, sweet kiss. 

“Mmm.”

Ianto leaned away.  “That was not a satisfied sound,” he frowned.

“Kissing you could never be unsatisfactory,” Jack smiled.  “But…  Will… will you let me shave you?” Jack looked tentative.  “I know we’ve never done anything like that, and I know it’s a huge trust thing, for a lot of people, so I understand if you don’t want to…”

“Jack,” Ianto cut him off.  “Please stop.  Yes.  I think that would be a very nice way for us to reconnect.”  He also had another idea for reconnecting, but the way Jack was behaving, it was probably going to take some convincing.  “How about a bath?”

Jack nodded, looking frightened and grateful and nervous, and Ianto hated himself for loving this vulnerable, uncertain Jack.  But then, he realized that this _was_ Jack.  Just not as he normally allowed himself to be seen.

Jack started the taps as Ianto searched through the cupboard under his sink for the old fashioned shaving kit that he had purchased one time after Jack had eyed it when they were chasing an alien through an antique store.  The brush bristles were soft and fine, the soap dish was carved out of a dark stone, and the straight razor was exceptionally sharp.

Jack looked at the kit and then at Ianto, and the younger man knew he recognized it.  “You went back for it?” he asked, his voice full of emotion.

“I did,” Ianto said. 

Jack moved into Ianto’s personal space and, holding him close, proceeded to kiss him senseless.  When he broke the kiss, both of them were gasping for air.  “What am I going to do with you?” he asked, tracing Ianto’s lips with the tip of his finger.

“You’re going to shave me, Jack,” Ianto smiled, reaching past him to turn off the taps and add a modest amount of everlasting bubbles.  When he turned to undress, Jack added more.  “I saw that,” Ianto said with a knowing smile in his voice.

Jack watched closely as Ianto undressed.  He saw the barest trace of the bruises on Ianto’s hips from where he had grasped them.  He saw how Ianto’s slender body had lost pounds it could not really afford to.  He saw the bruises from where he had bitten Ianto – healing, but still visible.

When Ianto turned back around, he saw Jack standing there, still fully dressed, regret etched into his features.  “Jack,” he said.  “Enough.”  He stepped forward and took Jack in his arms, hugging him for a moment.  “Please do me the honor of accepting my forgiveness,” he whispered, placing a kiss on Jack’s forehead. 

Jack gave a shaky nod, and Ianto helped him out of his clothes.

They talked and cuddled and kissed for a while, enjoying the hot water.  Then Jack settled Ianto against the tub, his head leaned back on a towel rolled up on the edge.  He placed another very hot towel on Ianto’s face.  “I could cut your hair for you, as well,” he offered.  “But I rather like how it’s starting to curl.”

Ianto felt very relaxed.  “Let’s just start with the shave,” he said quietly.  He wasn’t sure he wanted to wait for Jack to shave him _and_ cut his hair. 

Jack smiled and straddled Ianto’s thighs.  He got out the shave soap Ianto had purchased and used the brush to lather it up.  Then he tested the razor to be sure it would give Ianto a close and comfortable shave.  He took the towel off of Ianto’s face and set it nearby.  Then he lathered up Ianto’s beard.

Ianto watched Jack through his lashes.  The look of concentration mixed with… affection?  No.  Not that.  He hadn’t lied to Neville.  Whatever he and Jack were, he would not label it.  Jack didn’t want labels.  That meant Ianto would just have to live with not knowing what this actually was, between them.  Because if it wasn’t named, then it wouldn’t hurt as much, when Jack said goodbye to him.  And he would rather live with the misery of not knowing where he stood with Jack than to have Jack hurt in any way, ever.

So whatever the look was, Ianto enjoyed it, because it was his, for this moment.  Someday Jack would look at someone else this way, and Ianto needed to be okay with that. 

Even if it broke his heart.

Jack had a steady hand and the rhythm of shaving and then wiping the blade on the towel was soothing.  He pretended not to notice Ianto watching him.  He wondered what the younger man was thinking.

He didn’t have to wonder very long, because Ianto’s hands began to roam as Jack shaved him.  They trailed up Jack’s thighs, over his hips, up his abdomen, spread across his chest before trailing around and sliding down his back, over his arse, and around to his thighs again.  He made this circuit, again and again, as Jack focused on shaving him. 

When he finished, Jack leaned back, trying to ensure that Ianto’s sideburns were even.  It wasn’t worth his life to leave the younger man asymmetrical.  When he finished, he took a flannel and wiped the soap from Ianto’s face.  “There you are,” he smiled.

He leaned in and kissed Ianto, hearing that familiar purr.  “Gods and goddesses, Ianto.  I’ve missed you so much,” he breathed.

Ianto’s hands were on Jack’s arse, and in the next moment, Jack discovered that a bottle of lube must have been mixed in with the soaps and shampoos lining the side of the tub.  Ianto gently opened Jack, taking his time as they kissed lazily.  Jack vaguely pondered that it must have been a somewhat waterproof lube, for that to work, and he felt the proof of this as his well-lubricated lover breached his body.

Jack let out a low moan as he lowered himself onto Ianto’s cock.  “So good,” he whispered.  He was about to start moving when he felt Ianto’s hands at his hips. 

“I have a challenge for you,” Ianto had a devilish glint in his eye.

“Oh, do you, now?” Jack smiled.  That look always yielded stunning results.

“I want you to ride me, without any water splashing out of the tub,” he breathed.

Jack clenched, and Ianto groaned, his body thrusting up into Jack’s.

“And am I responsible for the waves you make?” Jack smirked.

Ianto gently rocked into Jack, causing the immortal’s eyes to slide closed.  “Of course,” he chuckled, and the sound was pure sin.

Jack began moving with almost painful deliberation, slowly and gently taking them both higher and higher, knowing that the fall would be spectacular.  Ianto took hold of Jack and began to stroke him, following the same rhythm.  He held his hips still, allowing Jack to provide all of the friction. 

It was all about control, this first time.  Ianto needed it, and Jack knew how important it was to give this to him.  As much as he enjoyed riding Ianto with abandon, this time it was important to stay in control, to pay attention to what Ianto needed.  Jack felt the familiar tightening of Ianto’s body and knew they were both getting close.  He leaned forward and caught Ianto’s mouth in a heated kiss.

Ianto gave a low moan, feeling everything quicken and tighten and suddenly he was in the midst of an explosive orgasm that left his throat raw from sounds he would not remember making.  All he could see was Jack, with his back arched and his head leaned back, his mouth open as he cried out, coming over Ianto’s hand and clenching around his cock, pulling another shuddering contraction from him.

Jack fell forward onto Ianto, kissing every part of his face as they both caught their breath.  When they finally calmed, Ianto trailed his hands up and down Jack’s spine.  “Jack?”

“Mmm,” Jack smiled, his head resting on Ianto’s shoulder.

“Will you do something for me?”

“Anything,” Jack promised, for the second time that day.

“Remember what I wrote to you, about how control is an illusion, but sometimes I need the illusion, to feel safe?”

Jack leaned back up, facing Ianto.  “Yes.”

“Well…” Ianto felt his heartrate accelerate.  “I need to… _not_ be in control.  But in a safe way.”  He looked at Jack, and the older man could see all of the trepidation and longing in those beautiful eyes.

“Ianto,” Jack’s own fear kicked in.  He began to back away, but Ianto gently grasped his hips.

“I trust you, Jack.  My safe word is Starbuck’s, in case it gets too much.”

Jack snorted.  “Seriously?”

Ianto shrugged.  “Should be easy enough to remember.  Plus, one would have to be desperate to resort to them, in any scenario.”

Now Jack was laughing.  He stood, pulled the stopper to drain the tub, and turned on the taps for the shower.  He hauled Ianto up and kissed him as they rinsed off.  Once they were dry, he led Ianto into the bedroom and they crawled onto the bed.  “Are you sure, Ianto?”

“I need this, Jack.”  Ianto gave him a steady look.  “And so do you.”

If the bath had been about control, the bed – with the scarves tying Ianto’s wrists to the headboard and the blindfold and the toys – was about surrender.  Jack was meticulously careful.  He paid attention.  He checked in.  He teased.  He tormented.  He took Ianto to a place where the younger man was completely abandoned to sensation. 

And Ianto was there, with Jack, trusting Jack, and feeling safe despite being completely out of control.  When he climaxed, his magic almost levelled Jack and blew the transformer on the street corner, blacking out two city blocks for the next six hours.

When Jack came to his senses, he cleaned himself up and found a good many candles.  Once they were lit, he grabbed a flannel and gently washed his lover before releasing him from the scarves.  As he pulled off the blindfold, he climbed back into the bed and pulled Ianto close, smoothing his hands over the younger man’s body as he trembled and calmed from the intensity of the encounter. 

Jack was overcome with emotion as Ianto draped himself over him and purred.  “Jack,” he sighed.  “I…” it was Jack’s turn to sigh as Ianto caught himself.  “I missed you,” he whispered.

“I missed you too, Ianto.  I’m glad you’re home.”  He ran his fingers through Ianto’s hair.  It really had grown quite a bit.  “We’re going to have to figure out a way to keep your wand on you.  The SSE is going to start charging us for damage to the electrical grid.”

Ianto chuckled, and warm puffs of air ghosted across Jack’s chest.  He shivered, and Ianto held him closer.

Jack did not want to sleep, yet.  He cast about for something to talk about.  “You wrote on Friday night that Professor McGonagall invited you to lunch, yesterday.”

“Mmm.”

“I get the feeling you avoid her, when you can.”  He felt Ianto flinch.  “Why?”

Ianto sighed.  He knew he needed to tell Jack, he just hadn’t planned on doing so tonight.  But there was no reason not to…  He tried to think where to begin.  “Transfiguration was my best subject at Hogwarts,” he began.  He felt Jack nod.  “So Professor McGonagall mentored me quite a bit.  I’m rather fond of her, actually.”

“Then what…”

“When I became an Auror, they felt my aptitude for transfiguration might yield some benefits.  They wanted to test me.  They wanted me to explore my magic.”

Jack was beginning to feel uneasy.  “What happened?”

Ianto shrugged.  “I worked my arse off, and have next to nothing to show for it.”

“That would have been tragic, but I have it on excellent authority that your lovely arse is just where it should be,” Jack smirked.

Ianto snorted.  “May I finish?”

“Sorry.”  He didn’t sound sorry, at all.

Ianto chuckled.  “At their encouragement, and out of my own ambition and curiosity, I set out to become an animagus.”

“Seriously?”

“So you know what that is?”

Jack gave Ianto a nudge so they could both sit up.  “Of course I know.  And that is amazing, Ianto!”

“Yeah, it would have been, if it’d worked, properly.”  He explained about the form being unstable, and the hypothesis they had come up with, the day before. 

“Why isn’t your magic anchored?” Jack asked.

Ianto sighed and scrubbed his hand over his face.  Another conversation he hadn’t intended to have tonight…  “When my magic first started to manifest, my father was… not pleased.”

“Ianto,” Jack reached for the younger man, pulling him into his arms.

“Actually, he went a bit mad.  He tried to beat it out of me,” Ianto whispered, and Jack held him closer.  “I was four.  I spent some time in hospital, and he was sent to Providence Park for a few months, for a rest.  My mother took us to visit him, every Sunday.”  He sniffed.  “When he got out, he mostly ignored me for a few years, though as time passed he got over it.  By the time I was ten he stopped taking his meds and started his love affair with firewhisky.”

“I’m so sorry,” Jack said quietly.

“I think it was that first beating that did it.  I’d never really thought about it, but there was that same feeling, of coming unmoored, when Bellatrix LeStrange…” he trailed off.  “It was that feeling of something important coming loose.  But it was still there, so I was okay.  And my Taid Cadogan spent a lot of time with me, while my father was away.  He wasn’t welcome, otherwise.”

“And he encouraged your flying.”

“I see now that he was teaching me to channel my magic safely.  It was the only magical activity that my father would allow.”

“Bastard.”

Ianto nodded absently.  “Hogwarts helped to re-anchor it, a bit.  But all of that was undone during the battle.  Then more schooling and Auror training patched it up again, but it’s still not well anchored.  Actually,” he took a breath, not certain how Jack would take the news.  “There is one small bit of anchoring that is pretty strong.  It’s… it’s a bit of the vortex.”

Jack sat Ianto up, again.  “From when…”

Ianto nodded.

“So the vortex can anchor magic?” Jack was immediately wondering how that worked.

“Most forces of nature can.  And the vortex definitely qualifies.”

Jack looked thoughtful.  “Would it hurt you to show me?  For just a second?” he asked hesitantly.

Ianto smiled.  He reached inward and transformed.  Jack gasped, then held out a hand as Ianto looked at him through the eyes of his animagus. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Jack breathed, stroking a hand over the cougar’s head.

Ianto transformed back with a gasp.

“Are you all right?” Jack asked, instantly concerned.

“I’m fine.  It was about to become a struggle.  Either I’d have to fight the instinct to reach for my missing magic, or I’d reach and it would flare and hurt.”

Jack pounced, pushing Ianto onto his back on the bed and covering him with his own body.  He kissed Ianto hungrily.  “Just when I think you couldn’t be any more gorgeous,” he rumbled.

Ianto let out a growl of his own and flipped them so that he was now covering Jack.  Something wild glinted in his eyes, and Jack was lost as Ianto surrendered to the nature of the animagus, though the form continued to elude him.

It was good that the transformer had already blown.

***


End file.
